Welcome to the Light
I once lived in a house with a light. You see, the house was completely dark. No lightbulbs, no light switches, no windows, nothing. It did have a lot of halls, rooms, tables and chairs though. And there was the Light.
At first it really freaked me out, because it was strange and unnatural in such a lightless world as mine. But I slowly grew accustomed to its warm glow and simple, unobtrusive ways. Every time it came near me it would say,”I can illuminate your house if you let me.” I never wanted any part of that. So I fled it.
I did it out of fear. Panic drove me. Out of that panic seeped much blood and scars. Running in the dark is a dangerous sport.
Eventually it simply irked me when the Light came around. I was annoyed because it shocked my eyes to see brightness in such a dim place. And so I ignored or repulsed it. And eventually it left me alone.
In fact, it left me alone for so long that I wondered if it was still there. I would go about my days, never thinking except for once or twice,”Where has that Light gotten off to?” And slowly, ever so slowly, I began to suspect that the Light had really and truly left me. That it had left me alone in a black and unpeopled place. What if the only other life I had ever known was… gone.
So I searched. High and low, near and far, looking, looking, looking. Sometimes I heard the tantalizing whisper of “Illuminate this house” echoing from some far corner. Those sent me dashing off to search again every time. But I never saw a thing.
Finally, weeks after I’d begun pursuing the Light, I found a place in my heart I’d never been before. Despair. I looked (as much as I could), at my hands, covered in scars and crusted blood from my many wounds. And I spoke and said,”What is my life worth?” At that moment a familiar whisper crossed my ears.
I was off like a cannon shot, banging into doors, tables, and chairs like they didn’t even hurt. Every time I rose, stumbled, or rolled around them to again fly after the Light. It was the first time I’d seen in months. I chased it through the house, completely losing myself in the hope of my only chance for community. I was desperate for a second chance.
Here my leg bled on a table, there I broke a toe on the door edge. I yelped as I slammed into a couch invisible in the brightness. Every time I kept running, and ever the Light was just ahead of me, only a corridor down. Three hours of this passed and I collapsed. My legs didn’t move. My arms didn’t reach. I could feel blood from many places. And I knew failure. No longer could I run. My hope had divorced itself from me. I cried. And in my tears a soft light slowly grew.
The Light came near me. Close enough that I could reach out and touch it. I didn’t. It waited. I broke down. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only hurt and cry. I knew I had wronged this thing, this thing which had only now come near me. I didn’t know how to begin. Slowly the words came out. “I…I’m sorry. Pl-… please… forgive me.” It said this. “You may receive me now. I will illuminate you.” And it came into my chest right where my heart is. It filled me with what I guess was peace and joy and forgiveness and love. More than that I saw the house was no longer dark but was filled with light and beauty. When I looked at my hands they no longer had scars. All my aching had stopped. And suddenly I saw people. Many, many people. Many of them smiled at me and laughed and sang. Some of them appeared to be blind and deaf. A man clasped my shoulder and said,”Welcome home, son.”
And a familiar voice whispered,”Welcome to the Light.”
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138,680 Literary Works • 672,231 Reviews
hey there! :]
At first, the idea of the "Light" felt quite spiritual to me, but as I read, I think it is just broadly transcendental / applicable to *so* many different readings. The extended metaphor of living in a dark house and encountering the Light was very powerful to me and it was sustained well throughout the story! The light in question works on multiple symbolic levels--e.g. grace, redemption, hope, community, whatnot--which, to me, allows for all of these ways to interpret it through a wide variety lenses. That is a really strong central metaphor to build a story around!
There’s a sense that the Light is nurturing, but it is in a way that threatens the narrator’s entire worldview, so it feels dangerous even though it isn’t. That push-pull dynamic keeps the narrative charged with unease, and I genuinely enjoy that ambiguity! It’s like the story is constantly asking whether transformation has to hurt or whether the pain comes from resisting it.
There’s also this interesting tonal shift once the narrator begins searching for the Light again. The story becomes more frantic, almost feverish: the running, the crashing, the accumulating wounds. It feels intentionally overwhelming in a way that mirrors someone spiraling into obsession. I think the intention is to immerse the reader in that chaos--and it works!--though I do wonder if it might help to let there be more sensory details. Since the story is so rooted in physical sensation, I'd suggest to lean even harder into the tactile experience; this could highlight the suffering *and* the yearning at the core of the plot. How does your narrator navigate a life defined by pain before they even understand what the "light" is? There’s so much you could explore there if you'd want to!
Speaking of that, I did enjoy the narrator’s progression from these overwhelming fears to acceptance as well. The physical details like bleeding hands, broken toes, crashing into unseen furniture, etc. make the darkness feel visceral and dangerous but also extremely *normal* and expected in the narrator's eyes. This is jarring at first, but it creates a lot of suspense. That is all awarded in the final transformation scene with light filling the house and the wounds disappearing, and I found that to me a really satisfying conclusion. I love stories that let light be something other than a cliché source of goodness!
I hope this helps you out; have a good one!
lee
Hi, great work! your story is very poetic, and very creative with metaphors. You also do a great job of showing the main character's emotions. how fearful he is of the light at first, how much he dislikes it, until he loses it, and realizes what it meant to him. How he becomes obsessed with it, chasing it, looking for ghosts, driving himself to near death for it. The way this story is written, like an elder telling stories, makes me wonder if He's guiding others, like the light did for him. I also wonder if the people who "Appeared to be blind and deaf" were like him, living in a "Dark house", and if he was in this lit up world the whole time, just unable to see so. All in all, great work! Keep writing, and welcome to YWS!